


so take this night (wrap it around me like a sheet)

by green_tea31



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016), Stitches - Samantha Simard
Genre: Crossover, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 03:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20613944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_tea31/pseuds/green_tea31
Summary: “How pissed do you think Matty’s going to be?” Jack asks, watching Mac take another sip of the fruity cocktail he’d let Jack order for him.His partner raises an eyebrow. “For losing Petrovitch or for the property damage his bodyguards committed while getting him away from us?"(Mac and Jack lose their target, find him again, and make some unexpected friends.)





	so take this night (wrap it around me like a sheet)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackVultures](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/gifts).

> This is a gift for [BlackVultures](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures) whose birthday is today. Happy Birthday you amazing and wonderful person. Also, I love your writing a lot. I hope you like this little crossover I've cooked up because it's been on my brain ever since I finished reading your book. For everyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about, go check it out. If you like macdalton, I'm pretty sure you're going to love "Stitches".
> 
> I debated not tagging the crossover until the weekend and keeping it a surprise, but I'm actually going to be away for a few days, and I hate doing editing via phone. I'm possibly unreasonably excited about the fact that this seems to be the first work in a fandom, at least on AO3.
> 
> As always, self-betaed. All mistakes are my own. 
> 
> I took notes while rereading Stitches a few weeks ago, but if I got any details wrong, feel free to yell at me in the comments and I will correct them.
> 
> Title from "This Night" by Black Lab.

“How pissed do you think Matty’s going to be?” Jack asks, watching Mac take another sip of the fruity cocktail he’d let Jack order for him.

His partner raises an eyebrow. “For losing Petrovitch or for the property damage his bodyguards committed while getting him away from us?”

Jack grimaces because Mac has a point. Matty is going to bury them in paperwork hell for this one. The op was supposed to be a quick retrieval. Go to Boston, find the Serbian mobster at one of the seedy bars he likes to frequent, and hand him over to Matty’s retrieval team.

They didn’t count on Petrovitch having an army of hired guns at his back. The ensuing shootout will likely go down in Phoenix history as the quickest turnabout during a mission that Mac and Jack ever experienced, and Jack isn’t looking forward to explaining to Matty that their rental car has come down with an unfortunate case of lead poisoning. He’s also still slightly damp from the puddle he accidentally threw himself into once the bullets started flying, and Mac has acquired a truly spectacular case of road rash.

If this is what Boston has to offer, Jack definitely isn’t impressed.

Jack sighs and slumps back in his chair. “She’s going to kill us,” he says, the combination of alcohol and bone-deep exhaustion making him feel a little grumpier than he’d normally be. He’d been looking forward to spending some time off with Mac after the op, but now all they have to look forward to, is being lectured by Matty and helping her with damage control.

“If she didn’t kill us after Budapest, she’s not going to do it now,” Mac says sardonically. He does that thing then, tongue darting out between his lips, teeth biting the soft flesh absently that always has Jack staring spell-bound at his partner’s face, desperately wishing to replace those teeth with his own.

The feelings he definitely doesn’t have for his very male, very straight partner might be getting slightly out of hand.

“Budapest wasn’t that bad,” Jack says, wincing in sympathy when Mac nearly chokes on his drink. “The city was only a little bit on fire,” he adds and his partner starts shaking with what Jack quickly realizes is suppressed laughter. Jack chuckles, too. It’s a lot funnier now than it had been back then when Mac and Jack had _also_ been a little bit on fire.

“Jack?” Mac suddenly sits up straight, eyes focused on the back of the bar. Jack follows his partner’s gaze and…

“_Sonuvabitch_, is that?”

“Petrovitch? Yeah, that’s him,” Mac answers his unasked question. Jack sends a silent prayer to whatever deity led their target back to them just as Petrovitch spots them and tries to make a break for it through the back door. Jack draws his gun and grabs his partner’s arm before Mac can follow the guy.

Sometimes the kid has no sense of self preservation. Throwing Mac a _look_ he only gets an eye roll in return. Gun raised, Jack pushes the door open, steps into the alley behind the bar, and finds himself looking right into the barrel of a Glock 22.

Mac, of course, hasn’t done the sensible thing and waited for Jack to give the all clear, but comes out after him, hands slightly raised. 

Jack resists the urge to sigh, barely, and turns his attention back towards their unexpected company. The guy with the excellent taste in weapons is tall, around six-foot-two if Jack had to take a guess. He’s pale with reddish-blond hair, betraying a possible Irish heritage, handsome too, his slightly crooked nose giving him a roguish charm that reminds Jack of the covers of those novels Bozer refuses to admit he reads.

The guy’s got the kind of looks that would have definitely had Jack take a second look once, before he’d crashed head-first into being in love with his partner, maybe even a third.

“While your glare is impressive, I doubt he’s just going to put down his gun because you want him to, Jim,” someone says from further down the alley, interrupting the standoff. Jack glances towards the speaker, then does a double take because if he’d thought his gun-wielding opponent was pretty, this guy looks like a model who took a wrong turn at fashion week and somehow found himself in a back alley in Boston.

He’s also fondling a lovely combat knife and has one foot grinding into a rather painful spot between Petrovitch’s throat and collarbone, who is definitely not escaping anymore, and looks like he’s on the verge of passing out from sheer fright.

Jack would like to redact his previous statement. Not a model then.

“Hey, eyes on me,” tall and red-haired barks at Jack. “And I told you to stay in the car, Bash,” he adds but only gets an unconcerned shrug in response. Jack feels an unexpected bout of sympathy for the guy still holding a gun on them. Seems Mac isn’t the only blue-eyed menace without an ounce of self-preservation running around Boston at the moment.

Jack tightens the grip he has on his gun, and takes a step forward, making sure to cover his partner as unobtrusively as possible. Mac, however, doesn’t seem to think staying put is a good idea, because of course he doesn’t, and steps around Jack, hands still raised. 

“How about we all come down and talk about this?” Mac asks. “You don’t seem to like Petrovitch any more than we do,” he adds with a pointed glance down the alley, “so I think we may actually be on the same side here.” Jack barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. He does frown when the redhead throws him an amused look, clearly having picked up on Jack’s useless attempt to keep his partner out of the line of fire.

“Mac-,“ Jack admonishes but Mac takes another step forward.

“I’m Angus MacGyver. This is my partner, Jack Dalton. We work for the government and we came to Boston to find Petrovitch and bring him in for questioning.”

“Oh for-,” Jack begins, attempting to grab Mac’s arm and pull him back behind Jack, where he’s a lot safer and also won’t go around and spill anymore secrets. He’s been trying for years to instil a healthy sense of paranoia in the kid when they’re in the field, but every once in a while, Mac throws all caution into the wind, bringing Jack ever so much closer to dying of a heart attack.

The redhead who may or may not be named Jim chuckles but doesn’t relax the grip he has on his Glock.

“Government? You got some ID?” He asks and Jack is silently grateful that they’ve actually started carrying identification whenever they operate on US soil recently, fake as it may be, it’s still more than they’ve had in the past and it’s been making their job a lot easier.

Mac nods and slowly reaches into his jacket, so he won’t spook the guy with the gun, and withdraws a leather wallet, handing it over with a nervous smile. 

The guy gives the badge a quick once-over. “Alright, looks good,” he says and lowers his gun. Jack does the same even if he doesn’t feel entirely comfortable doing it.

“Jim Wolfe, private investigator,” the redhead introduces himself. “You got a place to stash that guy?”

Jack ignores the fact that Wolfe has so far failed to introduce his companion aside from a nickname and turns to Mac.

“You think the team is still in Boston?” If not, they might be forced to involve the local police and nobody’s going to be happy about that.

“Only one way to find out,” Mac answers and sends a quick text to the team leader who’d said goodbye to them earlier that day with a definite air of _better you than me, buddy_.

“Yep – they’re still here and on the way…you and your partner weren’t after Petrovitch, were you?” Mac asks Wolfe who frowns and shakes his head.

“Bash isn’t actually my partner. We were really just here for a drink when that lunatic tore out of the bar.”

“And because Jim just can’t help it, he had to go and investigate the noise,” Wolfe’s not-partner throws in with a wry grin that tells of, maybe not a partnership, but definitely more than a passing acquaintance. Before he can say anything else, a non-descript van comes to a screeching halt in front of the alley. The door opens to reveal Michael Sullivan, team lead and the current bane of Jack’s existence, if only for the fact that Jack is pretty sure Sullivan’s got a huge crush on Mac.

“Dalton, MacGyver,” Sullivan greets them while two members of his team cuff Petrovitch and lead him to the van. “Didn’t think you’d manage to find him again. Good work,” he says, clapping Mac’s shoulder.

Jack glares at him.

Sullivan clears his throat and looks around the alley nervously. “Well – we’re on the way back then. Hit me up when you’re home again. Maybe we could get a drink to celebrate sometime.” He turns back towards the van, and Jack only barely resists the urge to shoot the guy.

Bash steps closer to them with a grin. “Well – I could certainly use that drink now,” he says looking at Wolfe who chuckles roughly.

“Oh, me too. How about you two?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

Mac looks at Jack, blue eyes unreasonably excited in Jack’s opinion.

“Fine,” he says, resigned to the fact that his partner is apparently determined to make friends tonight. And here Jack had been looking forward to sleep already.

…

“Despite Jim’s obstinacy, I do actually have a name. Please call me Sebastian,” Wolfe’s friend says to Mac while they’re waiting for their respective companions to stop arguing about whatever they’re currently arguing about. The barkeeper looks ready to just throw something at their heads though, so Mac suspects it has something to do with the drinks they're trying to order.

“Bash is just Jim’s nickname for me,” Sebastian adds but, judging by the almost fond look in his eyes, it’s a lot more than just a nickname.

“I’m Mac. Please don’t call me Angus. The only one who does that is my dad and, well- it’s complicated,” Mac trails off, still not sure how to describe that entire clusterfuck of a situation. He’d almost quit the Phoenix after finding out that his father had practically been just around the corner for all those years, but thankfully Jack had cautioned him to take a little time to think about it first. 

Sebastian smiles sympathetically. “Don’t worry. Unfortunately I understand complicated all too well.” There’s something hard in his eyes, something unforgiving that reminds Mac of civilians he’d met in Afghanistan and later in war zones he and Jack had been sent to, victims of terrible conflicts.

No, not victims, Mac silently corrects himself – _survivors_.

“How did you meet your partner?” Sebastian asks him and Mac contemplates deflecting the question for all but a second before deciding to answer truthfully. Jack may occasionally accuse him of being too trusting, but so far his instincts about people have been mostly right, and something tells him that he can trust the other man.

Besides, their first meeting isn’t actually classified.

“We met in the Army,” Mac begins, “I was an EOD tech and Jack was assigned as my overwatch.”

Sebastian looks surprised. “Really? Jim was in the Army, too. He was – what are they called? A Ranger?” Mac nods and the other man continues: “And after the Army you two started working for the government?”

Mac smiles a little helplessly because even after all these years he’s still not sure what he did right to end up with Jack as his partner.

“Actually, Jack was set to return home – he’s from Texas originally, but he…kind of followed me?”

Sebastian looks wistful, glancing at the bar where Jack and Wolfe seem to have come to some kind of agreement judging by the relieved look on the bartender’s face.

“You partner sounds very loyal,” he says, smiling absently. Mac recognizes the looks he gives Wolfe, longing mixed with apprehension and a healthy dose of deep-seated fear.

It’s disturbingly familiar.

“Jack’s a very loyal guy.” Mac swallows. “What about you. How did you two meet?”

Sebastian turns his gaze back towards Mac and smirks. “I rear-ended his car in an MG6.”

Mac almost chokes on nothing, he definitely wasn’t expecting that, and grins back. “When Jack and I first met we started throwing punches at each other in less than a minute.”

Sebastian chuckles. Mac stops trying to hold back and dissolves into laughter. They’re still laughing when Wolfe and Jack finally return with their drinks.

“Hey, what did we miss?” Jack asks, putting down something fruity smelling in front of Mac that definitely doesn’t contain alcohol. He shoots a look at his partner.

“Hey – you already look like you’re about to fall asleep. I’m not going to carry you back to the hotel, pal.”

“What were you two discussing?” Wolfe asks, taking the seat next to Sebastian.

“Nothing particularly interesting,” Sebastian says, taking an experimental sip of his own drink, a surprised but pleased expression on his face. Mac grins and looks at the other man who starts chuckling.

Ignoring Jack’s questioning glance, Mac raises his glass. “To first meetings.”

…

Mac and Jack leave for their hotel after exchanging phone numbers and a promise to meet if they should ever happen to find themselves in each other’s city again.

Mac’s been trying not to draw too many parallels between himself and Sebastian, but the way the other man looked at Wolfe throughout the evening struck an unexpected chord with him and left him feeling restless in a way he’s not accustomed to.

“You look like you’re about to vibrate out of your bed,” Jack says upon returning from the bathroom. There’s an indulgent smile on his face that he reserves solely for Mac, and that always makes him feel like he’s the centre of Jack’s world.

Maybe he is. He’s spent years telling himself to get over Jack – that his feelings were nothing more than a reaction to the close bond they’d already formed in Afghanistan, and the fact that Jack had followed him to LA without question. He’d told himself that his feelings had to be one-sided and, until tonight, Mac has never really considered that Jack might feel anything more for him than he would for a brother but…

Maybe it’s the way Jack tried to shield him earlier, something he’s done countless times before, maybe it’s the way Jack has been looking at him throughout the evening, is looking at him right now, but Mac isn’t quite so sure about all those points anymore.

There’s a wistfulness in his gaze, something elusive that Mac can’t quite understand.

Something almost like longing.

“Hey, what’s going through your head right now?” Jack asks and takes a few steps closer. He lingers at the foot of the bed for a moment before sitting down next to where Mac’s already buried beneath the covers, trying to ward off the chill of a late Boston fall night.

Jack places a hand on the bedding, right over Mac’s stomach. “Can I take a guess?”

Mac swallows and nods, not trusting himself to speak. If he concentrates, he can almost feel the heat of Jack’s skin seeping through the layers.

“You liked the kid, didn’t you? Sebastian. Reminded me of you actually.” Jack smiles sadly. “Made me glad I met you when you were still green.”

“What do you-“

“Hate to think what would have happened if you’d have been snatched up by the Company or some other outfit without me there to keep you from the darker parts of the job,” Jack adds. “Codreanu’s been through hell is my guess – Wolfe’s certainly got his work cut out for him.”

Mac frowns. “Codreanu?”

“Yeah, as in Anton Codreanu’s son? Guy’s just supposed to be a rich business owner with a lot of political influence in Boston, but I did some work in Romania back in the day, and Codreanu still has a lot of ties back home. According to some of the guys my cover identity worked with, he’s got a ruthless streak that makes Petrovitch look like a choir boy in comparison.”

“No wonder they didn’t tell us his last name,” Mac says. Jack nods absently, his hand still resting on Mac’s stomach. 

“Yeah…Mac,” Jack begins and there’s a look of intense concentration on his face that Mac knows very well. His partner is trying to put something into words but not quite sure how to go about it.

“You remember when we talked after that mission with your old man and you told me you wanted to quit the Phoenix?” Jack asks hesitantly. Mac frowns because he still doesn’t like to think about those days. So far, he hasn’t actually seen his dad since then, and he strongly suspects that Matty’s had something to do with that, but that doesn’t exactly make things easier.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I told you I’d support you in whatever you’d decide to do, but the truth is…the truth is, I was terrified,” Jack confesses, voice barely more than a whisper. Mac swallows around the lump in his throat.

“Jack-“

“I was terrified that you’d leave and that there’d be no place in your life for an old, broken soldier like myself anymore. Crazy, huh?”

And Mac – Mac can’t stand the thought that Jack would ever doubt his importance to Mac, would ever doubt his place in Mac’s life.

He’d thought it would be harder to take this leap, to let Jack in and trust him to catch Mac, and in a different place and time it might have been, but here, it’s not. It’s as easy as breathing instead, and Mac feels like something clicks into place when he frees one of his hands from the veritable mountain of blankets and covers Jack’s hand with his own.

“Jack – you will always have a place in my life,” Mac states emphatically. “And you’re not broken.”

Jack interrupts him. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew about some of the things I’ve done. Mac – you should really be running in the other direction right now because if I’m reading this right, if you really-,” Jack trails off and closes his fingers around Mac’s.

“I don’t think I can let you go again.”

Mac smiles gently and tugs at Jack’s hand until his partner is forced to climb into the bed with him, placing his arm next to Mac’s head to prevent himself from crushing him. That it also places Jack’s face at the perfect angle for Mac to kiss him if he turns slightly is just a bonus, one Mac is fully prepared to exploit later, once they’ve cleared things up.

Jack looks a little confused but there’s hope in his eyes where there had only been anguish before and Mac takes comfort in that.

“Then don’t,” Mac says, rearranging himself until he’s all but curled into Jack’s chest, his lips only inches apart from Jack’s. “Because I don’t plan on letting _you_ go anytime soon,” he adds and finally closes the gap between their faces, pressing their lips together.

Jack doesn’t react at first, and Mac almost draws back, suddenly anxious that he’s misinterpreted just about every interaction they’ve had this evening, but then Jack wraps an arm around him, turns them around until Mac is lying on his back again with Jack covering him, and turns the kiss into the kind of dirty, no holds barred assault on Mac’s senses that he’s been dreaming about almost as long as he’s known Jack.

Jack kisses like he does most things in his life, with a passion that leaves Mac breathless. Mac wraps his arms around him, opening his mouth to Jack’s tongue. They break apart when the need for air becomes dire and Jack frames Mac’s face with his hand, pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Jack says roughly.

Mac grins. “But what a way to go.” He yawns, the day’s events are finally catching up with him. Jack shifts until he’s lying next to him again, but keeps his arms around Mac’s bundled up form.

“I love you, but you’re about to fall asleep on me, so how ‘bout we use the rest of the night to get some sleep and talk about the important stuff tomorrow?” Jack asks him. Mac nods and wriggles around until he can wrap the blanket around Jack as well.

“You got the best ideas…and I love you too,” Mac murmurs, snuggling into the warmth of Jack’s solid frame, feeling utterly safe for the first time since they arrived in Boston, and lets himself be slowly lulled into sleep by that feeling.

Jack will be there when he wakes up.

…

Jack leaves Mac wrapping things up at their hotel the next morning and requests an Uber ride to the office of Wolfe & Vaughn Investigations on Boylston Street. Matty had called them early that morning to remind them that they may carry semi-legal IDs now, but that doesn’t mean they’re entirely in the clear as far as witnesses go.

He finds the building easily enough and makes his way past a hairstylist and an accounting firm before knocking on Wolfe and his partner’s door.

“Dalton. I didn’t expect to see you again before you leave the city,” Wolfe greets him surprised. Jack shrugs and deposits the box of pastries he got as a sort of _sorry I derailed your evening plans_ apology on the desk.

“The boss called. I’m supposed to make sure no trouble’s going to follow us home,” he says and sits down in a surprisingly comfortable olive green chair. Wolfe raises an eyebrow and leans back, hands folding over his stomach. There’s a question in his eyes that reminds Jack of how young the other man actually still is in comparison to him. Jim Wolfe may have the look of someone who’s seen some shit but when it comes down to it, he isn’t really that much older than Mac.

“There’s no trouble as far as I’m concerned,” Wolfe says, a considering look in his eyes. “I don’t think anyone saw what happened with Petrovitch and I checked out the neighbourhood this morning, just to be safe. There were no security cameras overlooking that alley either.”

Jack nods his thank and hesitates for a moment. Wolfe was very clearly protective of his not-partner last night, an urge Jack can more than understand, but Sebastian Codreanu is unfortunately the only variable that Jack can’t predict. Jim Wolfe was a soldier, he understands loyalty and duty and how the two can sometimes overlap with real life in less than ideal ways.

Codreanu has no such history, and pretty strong ties to the Romanian mafia to boot. From what Jack remembers, he’s not exactly his old man’s favourite, but that doesn’t mean jack shit if his obligations to his father are stronger than his ties to Wolfe.

Well, Jack has always done his best work under pressure.

“And what about your friend?” Jack asks mildly, trying to be as non-confrontational as possible. Wolfe looks up sharply and his previously mellow expression turns to ice.

“He’s none of your concern,” he grits out. Jack gets the distinct impression that Wolfe would prefer to chuck him out of the window with extreme prejudice, and only refrains because it’s a very busy morning outside the building.

“Look – I’m not interested in your friend,” Jack begins, hesitating a bit before continuing, “nor his connections to the Romanian mafia.” Wolfe tries to interrupt him then but Jack doesn’t let him. “Yes, I know who he is and not because I did a background check. I did some work for the Company in Romania some years back and his old man popped up a lot.”

He’s taking a big risk telling Wolfe about his former occupation but, maybe he’s simply become too trusting spending all those years at Mac’s side, there’s just something about Jim Wolfe that tells him the man is worth taking that risk.

“I just want to know if his connection to Anton might become a problem. I promise I’m not going to mention any of this in the report I still gotta write, and neither will my partner. I’ve got my own blue-eyed menace to protect Jim, and I just want to be prepared in case things go to shit.”

Wolfe’s expression softens a little and he seems to consider Jack’s question carefully.

“I’d ask how you managed to keep up with your partner for all those years but I suspect the answer would require more time than you have left right now,” Wolfe says wryly. “If Anton somehow finds out about this, I promise you the information won’t have come from Sebastian.”

It’s the first time Wolfe acknowledges his friend’s name and connection to the Codreanu family openly, and Jack swallows heavily, understanding the gesture for the offer it is.

Mutual trust.

An ally in Boston could come in handy in the future, and maybe he and Mac are leaving with more than that. Maybe Jim Wolfe and Sebastian Codreanu could someday be counted as friends, too.

Jack nods, smiling, and gets up. “Your friend has my partner’s number. Our offer was genuine by the way. Hit us up if you’re ever in LA and we’ll make it a party.”

Wolfe shakes his hand. “You know what? We might just take you up on that.”

Jack leaves the office with a jaunty wave and one less thing to worry about. He steps out onto the street and into the sun. The air is crisp and clear, and he can’t wait to take Mac home and continue the discussion they’ve started yesterday.

Maybe Boston isn’t so bad after all. 


End file.
